The Troubling Origins of Tipping Culture

It’s something so embedded in everyday life in the United States that you might not think twice before tapping an extra 20 percent onto your restaurant bill. But why do we tip in the first place—and how did a voluntary token of appreciation become an expected way of subsidizing workers’ pay?

The Early History of Tipping

Today, a trip to Europe for Americans typically means a break from the dreaded post-meal iPad spin. But ironically, early versions of tipping stretch back to medieval Europe, when servants would receive a few extra coins for good service.

The practice eventually made its way into the States in the 19th century, imported by wealthy Americans returning from Europe who saw tipping as a sign of sophistication. But while it may have signaled refinement abroad, it took on a different, more twisted role in America after the Civil War.

While there was pushback from poor Americans at first, who found it unfair to have to pay an extra sum on top of what was owed for their food, business owners saw nothing but dollar signs.

The service experience on the Cincinnati, Hamilton & Dayton R.R.: a look at the historical roots of the modern tipping debate. | Buyenlarge/GettyImages

As formerly enslaved people entered the workforce—especially in railroads, hotels, and restaurants—employers quickly saw a way to cut labor costs. Rather than paying full wages, they could make the customers pick up the tab through tips. In effect, the Emancipation Proclamation may have been signed and sealed, but the essence of slavery prevailed via the service worker pipeline.

One of the most cited early examples is the Pullman Company’s railroad porters. The company hired African American men—many of them formerly enslaved—and paid them extremely low base wages, expecting them to rely on tips from passengers for most of their income. What looked and felt like a gesture of generosity from white patrons was, in practice, the foundation of their livelihood.

When Gratuity Became a Given

By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, tipping had become the norm across American service industries, but it was also controversial. Critics argued that it created an undemocratic system in which workers had to earn their basic income by bowing down to customers, and in some cases, even called it “un-American.”

In a 1916 anti-tipping study, The Itching Palm, writer William Scott likened the dynamic between tipper and tipped to that of a “master and slave” relationship. And it wasn’t just a matter of opinion: several states, from Georgia to Iowa, even attempted to ban the practice in the early 1900s. But, alas, restaurateurs fought back, and those efforts to outlaw tipping failed in the end.

While the tools of the trade have evolved, the economic uncertainty tied to our tipping culture remains a defining challenge — The final exchange: a barber at a cash register in 1965. Despite decades of change, the transactional nature of service work remains at the heart of our culture. | DreamMedia/Getty Images

When the first federal minimum wage of 25 cents an hour was established in 1938, 80 percent of the workforce—including tipped workers—were excluded. Employers only had to fork over the full sum if a worker’s tips failed to get them to that minimum on their own.

For decades, the subminimum wage for tipped workers was consistently sidelined. It wasn’t until 1966 that they were granted a base wage at all, and even then, it was set at half the standard minimum. By 1991, the tipped minimum wage was locked in at $2.13 an hour, and it’s been stuck there ever since.

While the law technically still requires bosses to bridge that gap, enforcement is often spotty at best. In reality, tips aren’t just extra for full-service servers—they now make up more than 58 percent of their total paycheck.

The Racialized Roots That Remain

Today, tipping is often romanticized as a reward for a job well done, but its racial undertones continue to shape how service work is valued. The history of the tip also plays into who benefits from it. Black workers have long made up a larger share of the restaurant roster while remaining concentrated in lower-paying positions than their white counterparts. Many saw their tips decline even more during the pandemic.

But simply getting rid of tipping isn’t as simple a solution as it seems. That pay raise would have to come from somewhere—most likely, the price of your meal. Beyond the fear that customers might balk at a higher bill, many servers don’t want to lose that loot. After all, for those living near the poverty line—often women and people of color—a weekend in the weeds can be the difference between making rent and being evicted.

Still, not everyone is willing to accept the status quo. Some states have pushed to raise wages for tipped workers, with California, Washington, and a few more banning tip credits completely. Whether we eventually adopt a flat, livable wage or stick with what we have, it’s clear that the true cost of our meal is a lot deeper than the bowl it’s served in.